


From the Mountain Tops

by ashisfriendly



Series: Political Fantasies Do Come True [4]
Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 22:58:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9406673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashisfriendly/pseuds/ashisfriendly
Summary: It's Leslie's birthday and Ben is tired of celebrating her in secret. || Congressman/Intern AU





	

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ~~~~ME~~~~!!!!!! To celebrate my favorite day, here is a another installment of this series for the wonderful Parks fandom who continues to inspire me and support my insanity. Thank you!!!

Ben glances at the clock. 

It’s been thirty minutes.

His fingers grip along the glass in his hand, the wine sloshing a bit. He’s not a huge wine drinker, but he feels weird holding a beer at one of these things and he can’t drink hard alcohol. Ben prides himself on not being one of the drunk idiots who says the wrong thing to a group of people and unknowingly gives a journalist something good for a trending topic in the morning. 

Leslie likes wine. After a glass, her cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink, and after two she can’t stop smiling and her eyes are glossy and bright. Two glasses of wine Leslie likes to cuddle and pull on his t-shirt. She bites his lip and impatiently wiggles in his lap.

He misses her.

She’s here, of course. She’s in the group of interns somewhere along the open bar at a small number of tall tables. There’s a divide in the interns, the ones who think they deserve to be there and the ones who are wondering when someone is going to out them as completely incompetent. Leslie falls somewhere in the middle because she knows she wants to be here and knows she works hard and deserves this opportunity, but she’s also dating a Congressman and is constantly looking over shoulder.

He feels incredibly bad about that. But not enough to call off their relationship.

Leslie’s been drifting between tables, chatting and smiling. He’s been watching her, which probably puts a big, fat target on his back, but he’s having a hard time caring today. Ben cares a lot about his career, and about Leslie’s career that’s just lifting off the ground; he’s always very careful. He makes sure no one is in the hallways when he presses her against the wall and pushes his lips along hers. He checks conference room reservations, double checks the locks on doors, keeps his voice even on the phone when she’s disappeared under his desk. 

He’s been so very careful.

But, today is special.

Today is Leslie’s birthday.

It’s also the day of a very important fundraising event that he couldn’t miss. Leslie couldn’t miss it either. This group of interns’ time is coming to a close and they’re buzzing with the release of their duties to go for coffee runs and fight copy machines. They’re also starting to get news of offered positions now that some of them are graduating soon or are already done with school. Leslie hasn’t heard anything yet.

Ben nods politely at the person in front of him, glancing at the clock again.

Thirty-six minutes.

He waits for a lull in conversation and pounces on the silence.

“If you’ll excuse me, I actually have to make a phone call,” Ben says, the lie so easily fabricated by now. If it’s not a phone call, it’s a meeting, if it’s not a meeting, it’s a family emergency. “I’ll be back.”

Ben gets a polite nod in return and Ben places his wine glass on a table as he hurries toward the hotel lobby and turns right toward the bathrooms. He crosses into a small alcove and turns into the corner where there is the most perfect architectural flaw of a small open space behind a thick wall. Ben doesn’t know why the person who designed this building left this space, but he thanks them a million times over.

He finds her there. She’s wearing red, because he asked her to do so and she was so kind to say yes. It’s tight along her torso with thick straps that fall just a little over her freckled shoulders. The dress doesn’t hit the floor, it’s not that fancy of a gala, and her shoes are black and tall. He wants those heels to dig into his back. 

Her back is pressed against the wall, her eyes big and curious as he faces her. He watches Leslie’s face shift to relief and excitement. By the sheen of her eyes, Ben can tell she’s had at least two glasses of wine.

“Wait a minute, I know you,” Ben says, slipping his hands along her hips.

He nudges her jaw with his nose and she tilts her head, exposing the long, pale arch of her neck. He presses his lips against her neck, his teeth yearning to sink into her flesh. He grips onto her hips tighter to ward off the feeling.

“It’s me,” Leslie giggles, and Ben groans at the sound of her voice. Her happy, almost carefree voice, accented with a small gasp from his touch. “My name is Leslie Knope.”

“Ah, that sounds familiar,” Ben says, each word punctuated by a kiss. He kisses a trail down her neck, across her exposed collarbone. “You smell familiar, ah, yes, I’ve definitely tasted you before.”

She moans and her fingers slip up to his tie, gripping, and pulling. Ben follows her lead, hiking the skirt of her dress high up her legs. He stops at her thigh, tightening his grip around her legs, trying to keep himself from fucking her in this terribly not-so-private alcove.

“It’s also my birthday, did you forget?” Leslie asks, gasping at the end of her question. 

That last bite is going to leave a mark, but it’s worth it.

“Your birthday?” Ben asks. “I’m not sure… no one woke me up at four this morning screaming that it was her birthday.”

His hands have a mind of their own, skimming up her thigh, completely lifting her dress above her hips. He presses himself against her, letting the warmth of their contact buzz through him. He grinds into her hip and she arches her back. Ben has done this so many times that his hand just slips into her underwear and spreads her open with his fingers. 

She whines and gasps, this perfect little sound that he’s been chasing ever since he first kissed her. He felt like a mad man then. A perverted psychopath that needed to release something, to have something desperate and animalistic inside of him be released onto someone. A poor, innocent intern. 

He still feels entranced by her. Like his hands have a mind of their own and his tongue can’t get enough and his eyes can’t take her in fast enough. He’s a crazed lunatic around her. A man that has become such a good pathological liar for the benefit of finding just five fucking minutes with this girl, this… sunshine of a woman, because he can’t stand not being around her. 

Ben isn’t like this. He likes relationships well enough, but he also likes his own space, he likes being an island. It kind of makes it hard to navigate his job, politics, the government, but he manages because he does good work, he cares, and he gets the job done. With relationships, it was always his downfall. He never needed them, he never pined for them, the passion wasn’t enough, they would say. Sometimes he felt it first and ended things faster.

But not now, not with Leslie. He gets it, this is what they wanted, this is what he wanted. Needs.

“Please,” Leslie begs, untucking his shirt. She slides her hands along the skin of his torso and then pulls on his belt. “Please, Ben.”

He groans. He bites down on her lip in frustration, too hard, but she sinks into him, undoing his belt and freeing his cock so fast that he has no time to judge. No time to listen for footsteps or whispers, no time to think that this hallway is lit and open and anyone can walk by and see them if they just take a second glance.

“Leslie,” he protests, but it’s so weak on his lips. He’s a fool, a fucking helpless fool, when it comes to her. He’d wrestle the stars just to get to the moon for her. “ _Fuck_ , Leslie.”

Their breaths form sweet and soft whispers of their names, back and forth like a desperate symphony. He’s growling and protesting, telling her not here, not now, but pulling her leg around his hip, and welcoming her small leap before she wraps her other leg around him. He presses her body into wall and he can feel the cool, sharp push of her heels on the top of his ass and he’s a fucking goner.

“You have to be quiet,” he says through gritted teeth. She nods, biting her lip. 

He removes his hand from under her thigh and pushes her panties to the side and helps them align. His dick pushes against her opening and she’s so soft, so wet, so warm, he has to stop there and savor it. She shakes against him, trying to move her hips and he just looks at her, tilting his chin down.

“Wait,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against hers. He pushes in a little and she tightens around him, making him groan. “How long have you been wanting me, Ms. Knope?”

“You’re hard to resist, Congressman.”

“I said how long, Ms. Knope.”

Leslie’s eyes widen and he pushes in until their bodies are flush and he watches her eyes roll back as her eyelids flutter. He concentrates on every little piece of movement, how her mouth falls open, but she hurries to bite her lips closed as she moans. Her eyes open again and she looks at him, watches him, and looks down to watch their bodies move. He thrusts a little faster and enjoys the struggle on her face to stay quiet, but she still hasn’t answered him.

“Leslie? How long?”

He dips his head down, pressing his mouth against her neck so he can let out a moan. And another. She tightens around him and sinks her fingernails into the nape of his neck, igniting goosebumps all over his body. He’s going to create a hickey on her neck to prevent him from yelling her name and he should be concerned about it, but he’s not. He’s just not.

“Since -- ah -- since this morning.”

“I fucked you this morning,” Ben says into her neck. 

He slides his tongue down to her collarbone again. He battles with his mouth not to suck on her skin there, but he does. He does it there, he does it along her throat, he does it on her breast.

“This morning, in the hallway.”

After a short meeting, they passed each other in the hallway, Leslie on her way to make copies, Ben on his way to his office. 

“Oh, Ms. Knope, I actually need to speak with you,” Ben said, his voice totally calm and even, perfectly professional.

“Sure.”

She stood at attention, poised perfectly in front of him. Her hair was back, blouse unbuttoned just enough. She wanted to leave another undone for him, but he buttoned it back up for her in his bedroom that morning.

“Here’s my lunch order,” he said, placing a piece of paper in her hands. He saw the disappointment roll across her face right before he walked away.

“That was a mean trick,” Leslie whispers now, her words vibrating with the rhythm of his hips.

He smiles against her shoulder, allowing his teeth to drag against her skin before he bites. It wasn’t a lunch order on that piece of paper, but an itemized list of all the things he was to do for her that night after the gala. Such things included watching an episode of Murder She Wrote, an ice cream sundae bar, and eating her out until she forgot her own name.

Ben slides his hands under her ass and holds her tighter, fucking her deeper, quicker.

“Let’s go home,” Ben says, their moans getting louder, breaths faster. Leslie’s hand moves between them, pressing against her clit, her knuckles digging into his stomach. “Fuck -- come home with me.”

Leslie has been practically living with him for two months now, but he still loves to ask her to come home with him. He likes the way it makes her light up and grab his hand, or jump on the balls of her feet before she kisses him. 

Now it makes her head fly back and she moans without censorship. Ben kisses her and they both moan and hiss against lips, muffling the noise as they climb. His body ignites, grinds, and shakes against hers and he empties a little too soon into her but she follows quickly and the pulse and warmth of her is almost overwhelming.

He let’s her down, but he keeps kissing her, paying no mind to his pants that are around his ankles or her dress that is still revealing everything. She takes care of it for him, smoothing her dress down and bending as much as she can with his hungry mouth attached to her, to pick up his pants. He buttons his pants, belt hung open, and fly down, because he has more important things to do.

Like kissing her. He kisses her because he needs to and because he doesn’t get it to do it whenever he wants even though they work in the same building. He kisses her because he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. How was there a life without Leslie Knope? Did the sun even shine? Did the stars come out at night? Did he feel happiness each and every morning?

“Marry me,” Ben says, kissing along her face.

He starts at her mouth, the edges first, and then small, light kisses along her bottom lip. She whispers his name as he moves on to her chin, her jaw, her cheeks, her nose. He spends so much time on her nose. He kisses all the freckles underneath her eyes and follows the soft line of her eyebrow and then over her forehead. 

“Marry me.”

He kisses her closed eyelids and then moves down to her neck again. 

“Leslie Knope, marry me,” he says, nipping at her skin, “please.”

“Ben.”

He pulls back and her mouth is open still, his name lingering on her lips like a question. Her eyes are big and soft and he kisses her lips again.

She holds onto his tie and finally smooths her hands into his hair again, holding the strands and lining his mouth with her tongue. 

He was going to do this tonight. But it was supposed to be somewhere between the ice cream sundae bar and eating Leslie out. The ring is at home. There are candles. He’s fucked this up.

“Marry you?” Leslie asks, pulling away.

“Yes,” Ben says, “I want to be with you. Forever.”

“You… you -- wait -- are you in love with me?”

Ben takes a step back.

“Of course I’m in love with you.”

“Well this is the first I’ve heard of it.”

She plops her hands on her hips, a playful gleam in her eye as she evaluates him.

“Wait, I haven’t told you that I love you?”

“Uh… no. And I would remember. It would be documented. Just like our first date, first time we had sex, and the first time we brushed our teeth together.”

Good Lord, his heart is bursting.

He grabs her face and kisses her again, both of them falling into the wall behind her. She holds onto the lapels of his jacket and he slides his fingers back into her hair and sighs against her mouth. She opens her lips and warmth trails through his body in strong currents. They keep kissing and Ben knows he should be aware of how long they’ve been gone, the people walking by, but he doesn’t move. Not even when a group of people pass, laughing so loudly there’s no way he could've missed their approach. Their sounds fade away, though, and the chance was worth it. Hell, if they were caught it’d be worth it.

Leslie whispers his name against his lips and he moves back, rubbing his thumbs along the back of her jaw, into her neck, and up again. She closes her eyes and swallows, struggling to stay upright, stay focused, and unaffected by his touch. 

“I love you, Leslie Knope,” Ben says, voice caught in his throat, making him quiet. Leslie’s eyes widen, shining in a thicker gloss. “I love you so fucking much.”

Leslie laughs, a tear spilling. He loves how easily she cries. It breaks his heart to watch her sit next to him when a Tide commercial is on where puppies play in clean linen and the tears crawl down her face, but he can’t get enough of how raw she is. She’s nothing hidden and everything exposed. 

She pushes up and nudges his nose with hers and kisses his lips. 

“I love you, too,” she says and they get lost in small, sweet kisses until she says it again.

Ben pulls back just as a woman rounds the corner, lost on her way to rest room. Ben puts a hand out for Leslie to stay hidden as he directs the woman in the right direction. He looks back at Leslie, her fingers tapping lightly under her eyes as she sniffs. When their eyes meet, she smiles, actually lights up as if the heat from all the stars in the universe are glowing underneath her skin.

She sniffs and apologizes for the tears. He reaches for her cheek and wipes them away.

He almost brings up the proposal again, but he decides to skip it for now. He decides to clasp his belt and help Leslie fix her hair and lift his chin so she can adjust his tie. They look almost presentable when they’re done.

They agree to meet at his place in an hour. He’s there first, and by the time she gets there, he’s out of his tie and shoes. They kiss when she comes in and he delights in the dramatic difference in her height as she kicks off her heels, kissing the top of her head.

The night is like any other except for the ice cream sundae bar Ben sets up in the kitchen with a rousing solo rendition of Happy Birthday. They snuggle and share cold kisses on the couch; Ben tells her his newest frustration and she shares a solution because with Leslie, there are only solutions. She tells him what her friend Ann has been up to and he plays with her hair while she takes a few notes in a binder. She laments that she’s had no job offers and he kisses her shoulder and tells her, “It’ll happen.”

It’s not until they’re in his bathroom together, and Leslie is dressing both of their toothbrushes, that he remembers.

He turns, holding his toothbrush as he walks into his room and opens his underwear drawer. He slides his hand all the way to the back and grips the small box and holds it behind his back as he walks back to the bathroom. She’s in the middle of her very diligent teeth-brushing routine that sometimes includes singing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. Tonight she’s humming something else.

She smiles at him in the mirror, toothpaste frothing in the corner of her mouth, and Ben can feel his heart jumping against his chest as he slips down onto one knee.

Leslie’s head snaps down, looking at him, her eyes huge and toothbrush still. She takes the brush out of her mouth.

“No,” she says, “not right now.”

Ben smiles, his throat tightening.

“Yes, now.”

“Ben!”

She turns to the sink and washes her mouth out, spitting as delicately as she can, as if he hasn’t watched her spit in his sink countless times before.

She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and stomps her foot, looking back down at him.

“Ben!”

“Leslie Knope--”

“How could you, I was brushing my teeth! I spit!”

“--I love you. So much. So much more than I ever thought I could love anyone or anything.”

Her chin quivers and she covers her mouth with her hand.

“I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to marry you. I want everyone to know you’re my wife.”

“Oh my God,” she says behind her hand. Tears slip down her cheeks, lost beneath her fingers.

Ben gets up, desperate to hold her, touch her, catch the tears.

“Ben,” she says as he grabs her waist and hoists her up onto the counter, pushing himself between her knees.

“Marry me,” he says, kissing her. 

She kisses back, tasting like fresh mint. He cups her face with one hand, gripping the ring in the other and kissing her between the same plea over and over again.

“Marry me,” he says and kisses her bottom lip. “Marry me.” A kiss to her cheek. “Marry me.” A swipe of his tongue. “Marry me.” He kisses her fingers that he holds with his own.

Leslie nods, trying to capture his lips again, but it’s not enough. He presses his forehead to hers and whispers, “Please,” and there’s a small stretch of silence.

Then, “Yes.”

He kisses her, almost sending her ass back into the sink. She laughs against his lips and they frantically untangle themselves minutes later and he gets to slide the ring on her finger. It fits, it’s too flashy for her, he knows, but this is the woman that has brought the sun back into his life and he’s not going to ever let her forget it.

Ben slides her off the counter and she wraps her legs around his hips as he walks her around to his bed. He tosses her down and she giggles, flailing arms and legs as she bounces. He grabs her panties and slides them off with ease and she opens her legs like a damn offering, like she knows just what he needs.

“I love you,” he says.

She smiles, glancing at her hand, and opens her mouth to reply, but it turns into a moan instead. Her hand slips into his hair and slides down to his cheek and he feels the cool metal of her ring. He smiles against her and her back arches, pushing deeper against his face. 

Ben groans and holds onto her hips, digging his fingers into her skin, stilling her. He slows his kisses, his tongue, the movement of his lips against her and savors every taste and moan and twitch of her muscles. He savors her.

They have forever. He’ll take his time.


End file.
